My Tethered Soul: Volume 2 (Reaper's Rite) (9 page)

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Authors: Dorothy Dreyer

Tags: #reaper, #young adult, #teen fantasy, #death and dying, #teen paranormal, #teen horror

BOOK: My Tethered Soul: Volume 2 (Reaper's Rite)
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I slipped into bed, and part of me was relieved Gavin remained on top of the covers. There would be plenty of time for us to decide to take our relationship under the covers. One day. If a Reaper didn’t get to me before my next birthday, maybe.

I tucked myself into Gavin’s side, and his arm came around me so that his hand caressed my shoulder. His hand was gentle, careful not to put too much pressure on my scar. He always knew just how to touch me. I breathed him in deeply and told myself to relax.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Seeing my shock, he laughed. “I mean, what should I do if you get up in the middle of the night?”

The tight muscles in my face slowly loosened. “Stop me, I guess.”

“How did Naomi do it?”

“She didn’t, at first.” I shifted, propping my cheek up on my hand so I could face him. “I was already down the block by the time she and Mara got to me.”

Though he looked right at me, I could tell by his searching eyes that the gears spun in his mind. “You don’t know where you were headed?”

“No. But I guess they would have found out if I had gotten any farther.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“What if I didn’t wake you right away? What if I follow you to see where you end up?”

I bit my lip, considering his proposal.

Obviously seeing my apprehension, he took my cheek in his palm. “I wouldn’t let you get hurt or anything. But if we don’t have any leads as to where you might be pulled to when you’re under a Reaper spell—or whatever it’s called—then following you might clue us in.”

The breath I drew was long and slow. How far would I have to go under a trance until we figured out where I was going? And what unimaginable things might I do while under that trance? Then again, what other choice did we have? The more I thought about it, Gavin’s suggestion made a lot of sense.

“I suppose you’re right.” I let my head fall back to his shoulder. “And as long as you make sure nothing bad happens, then following me could help enormously.”

“I’d get Mara, of course.”

“I know. I trust you’ll do everything right.”

We smiled demurely at each other. I was glad we had a plan, but it still terrified me that I might wander in my sleep under the Reaper’s control. Gavin’s presence comforted me, but at the same time, part of me was concerned for his safety.

“Zadie,” he said. “Not that I’m not happy with your outfit—because, believe me, I so am—but if there’s a chance you’ll head outside in the middle of the night, you might want to put something warmer on. Like sweatpants. And socks.”

It was a relief to laugh a little. “Okay. You’ve got a point.”

Reluctant to leave his side, I squeezed him greedily before pushing myself off the bed. I felt his eyes on me as I went over to my dresser and pulled on a pair of jogging pants. With a bit of searching, I even found a pair of socks that had little nubs on the soles to keep me from slipping on slick surfaces. Not that slipping was the worst of my worries. Checking my reflection quickly in the mirror, I told myself everything would be fine.

Back under the covers, I curled into him, my head nestled on his shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

He lifted my chin and kissed me tenderly. “Goodnight.”

I closed my eyes and breathed him in, letting his scent envelope me and the sound of his breathing lull me to sleep.

 

***

 

“Zadie!”

The first thing I felt was a biting wind rush by my face. Then my shoulder hit the sidewalk and the air was knocked out of me. A car horn blasted as the vehicle—a mere foot away from me—raced past into the night. Gavin grunted, sprawled out on the ground beside me.

“What happened?” I rolled to my side and propped myself up to face Gavin. I squeezed a hand over my scar, willing the stinging sensation to stop.

“You were sleepwalking.” He gasped as he tried to catch his breath. “It was really freaky. You just got up out of bed, eyes open and everything, and walked out of your room without looking at me. You didn’t even answer me when I asked you where you were going.”

I shuddered, picturing the scenario. “And then?”

He stood and held out his hand to help me up. “You headed down the stairs, and I heard the front door open. I was about to get Mara so we could follow you when I heard a sound coming from down the hall. I thought it might be your dad, so I decided to go out your window and catch up to you. I followed you down the street. The way you were walking, it was so spooky. You headed here. You were about to cross the street—headed to that house, I guess—when that car tore down the street.”

“You tackled me?”

“To stop you from being hit by the car, yeah.”

I looked around, taking in my surroundings, and realized how close I had come to being killed. Then I grabbed Gavin and buried myself in his chest. I could hear his heart pound at an impossible pace. “Thank you.”

A shiver ran over my skin. Despite the sweatpants and socks, I wasn’t exactly dressed for being outside. Gavin must have noticed me shiver, because he took off his jacket and swung it over my shoulders. I smiled at him in gratitude.

“So I was headed to that house?”

“I think so,” he said.

It was a white, two-story colonial with red shutters flanking each window. A real estate sign graced the front yard and, judging by the curtain-less windows, I guessed no one lived there for the time being. The neighboring home was a duplicate of the house, except with black shutters. In front of that house sat a green pick-up truck. The same beat up pick-up driven by the old man who yelled at me when I went dress shopping with Naomi.

I wiped my hands on my sweatpants. “Should we cross the street?”

Gavin took my hand in his. “Sure.”

With Gavin secure in my grasp, I crossed the street. The closer we got to the empty house, the sweatier I felt. Then something caught my eye. In the space between the two houses sat a garden. The small, broken chicken-wire fencing more or less indicated the garden belonged to the man with the pick-up. Due to the recent rainfall, mud drowned the garden. I swallowed, remembering the mud on my feet. Is that where I was the other night? If so, what was I doing there? In the garden sat a waist-high, decorative windmill. The eerie squeak of its spinning rudders raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Painted in red across the base of the windmill were the words “Rudy’s Garden.”

“What’s wrong?” Gavin asked when I stopped walking.

I could only point to the muddy patch of land.

Narrowing his eyes, he squeezed my hand. “Why’d you come here?”

My voice was almost inaudible. “I don’t know.

The wind picked up, causing the branches of the trees in front of the abandoned house to rustle. I tore my attention away from Rudy’s garden and scrutinized the empty house. Something about it seemed familiar. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

As I was about to take a closer look at the empty house, a light inside Rudy’s house came on. Instinctively, I ducked.

“Shoot,” Gavin whispered. “We should get out of here.”

I nodded.

With lowered heads and swift feet, we bolted across the street and back toward my house. But I knew we’d be back.

Chapter Nine

 

I listened at the bottom of the stairs until I was sure Dad was in the shower. There was no way I would want him to hear the phone call I was about to make. The squeak of the pipes as the water started was my cue. I quickly dialed Lilura’s number and chewed my thumbnail. The phone rang. Once. Twice.

“What is it?” Lilura cleared her throat.

“Lilura, it’s me.” I glanced at Mara, who was glaring at me from the kitchen table. She was still kind of pissed that Gavin hadn’t woke her the night before when I’d wandered. I explained his side of the story, but she didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, he didn’t follow the rules, and it could have ended badly. Lucky for him, he had snuck out at the break of dawn and missed her rant.

“Well, get on with it,” Lilura groaned.

“Sorry. Um, last night I walked in my sleep again. And instead of waking me right away, Gavin followed me to see where I’d go. I ended up at an old house a few blocks down. It’s empty. No one lives there.”

For a second I thought Lilura had hung up. Either that or fallen asleep. But then she spoke. “Is it on Ivy Lane?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

A barrage of coughs came through the phone, making me flinch. When Lilura finally got her throat clear, she said, “I’m familiar with the house. Or at least, with the outside of it. Never was inside. Followed your mother to it on more than one occasion.”

“My mother?”

Mara looked up at me, putting down her cup of tea. Her brows pulled down and she stood to join me. I met her halfway and held the phone so she could listen in on the conversation.

“Don’t you remember I told you when your mother thought she was a witch?” Lilura said. “Got herself mixed up with a Wiccan clan? Practiced botched up spells and crooked magic?”

My mouth hung open as I took this in. Why did I wander to a place my mother used to go? Was a Reaper calling me there? And if so, why?

“Why do you think I keep heading there?”

“I have a feeling it’s your mother’s Reaper. It’s where she practiced most of her magic. Her energy is still in the house. He’s looking for her.”

Mara and I locked eyes.

“But he already took her sanity.” I rubbed at my temple. “What does he want from her?”

“Hmm. Maybe he’s grown hungry again. Or maybe you saving your sister drew his attention back to your family.”

Mara’s eyes dropped to the floor then rose back to me. I shook my head to let her know she wasn’t to blame for any of this.

“Why there?” I asked. “Why not in the hospital?”

“I’m willing to bet she hasn’t used her powers since she’s been locked up. Maybe the Reaper took her sanity and moved on. Now that magic has been detected, he’s come back—thinking it was your mother—to finish the job.”

As in, claim her soul.

Lilura hacked another liquid-sounding cough and then continued. “Mara’s Reaper took her from her room because that is likely where she performed most of her magic. Your mother’s Reaper is looking for her in the places where she dispelled most of her magical energy—at your home and at that old house. It’s also probably where your mother’s Reaper started haunting her.”

I tapped my finger against the phone, my mind searching for an answer to this riddle. “We should go check out the house then. Find out if a Reaper is hanging around. If that’s even possible.”

“It’s worth a look, yes. In the meantime, I consulted with an old friend of mine. She told me about a spell that might help. Its purpose is to push out attempts of control over your mind. Similar to exorcising demons. It takes a lot of skill, and I’m not sure even the most powerful Vila can master it. And there’s no guarantee it will work against a Reaper. But since I can’t send you off empty-handed, we might as well give it a try.”

Though she couldn’t see me, I nodded. “Yeah, let’s try it.”

“Can you come over now?”

“No, I can’t. We’re actually going to visit my mother now.”

“Mara too?” Lilura asked.

I glanced at Mara, who was still listening in. Her mouth was in a straight line as she shook her head.

“No, she won’t go,” I said into the phone.

“Send her over then. She can at least train with me.”

A sigh escaped my mouth. “Okay. By the way, how’s Chase’s potion coming along?”

“He’s nearly done.”

 

***

 

My head spun with so many thoughts, so many questions, that my footsteps seemed to echo more than usual. The gray hall leading to the common room pressed in on me, as if the walls were about to collapse. I shook my head, forcing myself not to let the stress get to me, and concentrated instead on the nurse in front of us.

She must have been new. I’d never seen her in the four years I’d been visiting Mom, and there was no way I would have missed such a petite woman with golden corkscrew curls and lashes a mile long. To me, the little woman, with her sweet smile and bounce in her step, didn’t quite fit in such a gloomy place.

Weekends were always the most crowded at the mental hospital, so visiting hours took place in the common room. I guessed that way the staff was able to keep an eye on everyone better. I always found these visits more uncomfortable than when they allowed me to see Mom alone in her room. Here, I had to be exposed to the other patients—not to mention the weird smells of pine-scented disinfectant mixed with soiled adult diapers.

The first thing I saw when we entered the room was a man playing checkers by himself. It didn’t surprise me when he talked to the empty chair across from him. That had always been the way he acted. Past the nurse’s station, a group of people sat on a couch watching
Wheel of Fortune
on a wall-mounted flat screen. Every once in a while one of them would yell random words at the screen that couldn’t possibly have fit the puzzle.

Then my eyes fell on Mom.

She leaned forward at a table, dressed in a beige jogging outfit. I recognized it as one Dad bought her a couple Christmases ago. The doctors gave their okay on the gift because there were no strings or anything sharp attached. She lifted her head and faced us. Blinking at Dad as if she recognized him, Mom stood. But she didn’t smile. She didn’t frown either, but I couldn’t help but wonder how sad she might be. At least we’d gotten to the stage where she might recognize us, even if the response was void of emotion. Dad gathered Mom into his arms, and after a moment, Mom’s arms came up to return the embrace. My chest tightened. Dad’s face creased as he held her that way for a while. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. When their hug ended, Dad motioned for me to greet Mom.

“Hi, Mom. You look good today.” I took a small step toward her. Then another. And finally, I threw away my inhibitions and wrapped my arms around her. Breathing deeply, I buried my face in Mom’s rosewood-red hair. The hospital obviously didn’t use the same shampoo Mom used at home, but I welcomed the smell anyway. Though I couldn’t place the ingredients, it was a smell I’d gotten used to over the last four years.

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